


Desolate

by generictripe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Apocalypse, Brotherly Love, Gen, Monsters, Mutants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generictripe/pseuds/generictripe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sburb never happened. Something worse did. </i>
</p>
<p>Dave's story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desolate

Sburb never happened. He was never a knight with a crimson cape. He never drew with chalk, sitting cross-legged with an alien girl. A scar on his arm, a reminder of a scuffle with said alien girl and her sharp teeth was gone. All evidence was washed away. Even his memories devolved into nightmares of a laughing green skull and the heat of a thousand suns searing his flesh off. 

No. The game that destroyed so many lives never happened. But something worse did. It came in the form of great cloud. It ballooned up covering the everything in it's wake with destruction. There was more. Bombs dropped like raindrops for three months. People were frantic. Then..there was hardly anyone to be frantic. Dave was only thirteen when it happened. They called it the end of the world. Dave called it a typical Thursday.

Bro had cocked a grin at that joke, eyes ever concealed. The basement the brothers were huddled in shook once with a nearby blast. All that penetrated the dark was a small flickering flashlight Bro held in his strong hand. If any man could survive the Apocalypse , it was him. At least in Dave's opinion that is. They were in the basement for a year before Bro began to get sick. He had always be adamant to Dave to obey on thing. Do not go outside. The radiation would be harmful.

It started with more bleeding. A little cut along Bro's cheek bled for three hours and it just would not stop. Blood dripped down onto the cement floor. Dave, eyes wide behind aviator frames, stood watching. The man he had admired dabbed and dabbed with a soiled rag. 

The boy's breath came in ragged bursts. Bro wasn't looking, too busy with his face. A crude image swam in Dave's worried mind. His own blood on his hand, spewing from his throat onto the ground. A year of malnutrition and stress shot electric lethargy up Dave's spine. His legs crumbled away at the shock. No. A strong arm catches him. 

"Hey lil' man. You gettin' tired?" The drawl is a little more prominent in his caretaker's voice. Years of living with Bro had taught Dave the little quirks he had. These simple and slight changes indicated the stoic man's mood. A raised left eyebrow meant disbelief. Deep breaths meant contentment. A intensified southern drawl meant worry. 

Dave exhaled, bringing his legs to support his weight, balancing his expression. Show nothing. Reveal nothing. He cocked a slight smile. One tiny arch of his lips. It was easy to put on. "Yeah. Bro. I think I'm probably just tired. It's time to hit the sack with a ten pound mallet. Gotta beat that thing like M.J." The metaphor hangs in the air. Then scatters, dry and hollow like ashes from a long forgotten world. Like their world.

It took another two years for the illness to wreak it's havoc on Bro. Taunt muscles that had flexed underneath his polo melted away to just skin and bones. Little wounds bled forever. Bruises covered the once tan skin. Dave stood over his brother. The scrawny wide-eyed boy of thirteen was gone. All innocence was wiped away. Instead a man by the name of Dave took his place. There was muscle on his frame now. Piecing red eyes nearly glowed from behind his shades.

He had gotten very good at not showing the pain in his chest. Bro reached a hand out for him, a slight tremor quaking through his weak body. Tears welled up in Dave's eyes, and he adjusted his frames. It would not be long now,he knew. Fighting to keep his own steady,he took Bro's hand. How long had it been since he had held his caretaker's hand? Years? He was small last time he had gripped the rough calloused hands. It was a better time then. A trip to the zoo and cotton candy. His big brother tall and strong,letting him ride on his shoulders as they gasped at the giraffes and elephants.

Dave's grip tightened around the now frail hand, wincing when he noticed that he could feel feel the thin bones underneath. "C'mon Bro..It..it's gonna be okay," he mumbled,a hitch in his voice. He looked to Bro, fully expecting to be called down for his slowly break facade. But no scolding came. Dull orange eyes stare up at Dave. The light behind them flickers like a failing street lamp. It registered in the teen's mind that there were tears dripping down his brother's long nose. 

"Listen kiddo,"Bro rasped. The skin of his face was pulled tight over the skull. The sickly man squinted from behind sunglasses, like some sort of Halloween decoration. It would have been comical if it was not a real person. Bro coughed , a hacking sound that echoed throughout the cellar that they were staying in.

"Dave,"he whispered," You have to listen to me. You have to be stro-" "No!" The teen's voice rung out. No. No. NO. Bro couldn't leave him. Not now. He would be alone. There was no one left alive. There was no blue-eyed internet friend to send him little packages of hope. His heart lurched and before he could regain his control,Dave's fingers were clutching at Bro's soiled shirt. He ,even then could feel the man's breathing come in gasps. 

Dave thought of all the times Bro had protected him. When the nightmares got bad,around the time he was five, the man would bring him treats. Apple juice. Cookies. An unsoiled puppet with soft hands. But it was always done in secret. The items would just appear and... neither of them ever mentioned it. 

"You ain't gonna die! I..I.." Calloused hands squeezed at the dying man's. There had to be some way! Dave willed his health, his life to flow from his fingertips into Bro. Anything to save him. But this was real life. No magical light of love and justice exploded forth. A sad teenager and an emancipated middle aged man sat in the floor of a basement and wept. 

The tears fell for a little while, silent. There was no acknowledgement of them, not even a speechless one. Stoic to the end,Bro Strider let sniveling slide. This time. "Kiddo. Really. I'm down for the count and I'm not sure I'm gonna be gettin' up." Dave shook his head, wiping at his tears with his sleeve,"No! Yo-" 

"Dave,"Bro rasped out,cutting the protest in half, "You gotta be strong." Suddenly he clutched at his stomach. It had to be the hunger. The man had not been able to keep anything down for a week! Dave looked to their stockpile of canned delicacies , hiccuping slightly as he speaks,"Do you need...?"  
Bro shakes his head,waving a hand dismissively.

He freezed then,eyes wide. Stiff and shaking, his gaze flicked back to Dave. "Dave. I..I am proud of you little bro. Re-." A choking sound cut him off and he gasps, clutching his throat. Dave reached for the first aid kit, the white box of hope. The one source of plastic joy in this. He looked to his brother,a slight smile on his face. The kit tumbled from his fingers,bandages and creams clatter onto the floor like fleeing mice. Bro had stopped moving. He had stopped doing anything at all. Blank eyes stared upwards. It was finally over.

Dave was on his feet at once,arms thrown out in front of him. Push everything away. It was impossible. "Bro...?" At once Dave was a child again, clutching at his brother's leg, shy in the wake of meeting a stranger. Everything around him seemed to crash in at once. Blood red waves of memories send him buckling to the floor. The concrete made long gashes in in palms as his hands came down to hit the floor. A dull sound echoed as he beat his knuckles bloody into the floor. The cries that left his mouth were not his own,but of as monster bent on it's own destruction. He had to o what his brother said though...Be strong. Be a man. Be alone.


End file.
